


That's the kind of love (I've been dreaming of)

by oceantears



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Character, Awkward Flirting, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bad Flirting, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Flirting, Crowley is Trying, Fluff, Human Gabriel (Good Omens), Human Michael (Good Omens), Incubus Crowley (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, No Sex, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Work In Progress, incubus, sex-repulsed Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2020-12-24 06:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceantears/pseuds/oceantears
Summary: Crowley grinned - an angel. That would be his greatest achievement yet.Or: Crowley, an incubus, is looking for the next person to feed on in his ususal club when he spots a somewhat peculiar person. Turns out, the man is an angel - and so far, no incubus has ever managed to tempt an angel before. Crowley quickly decides that he will be the first one to do so - only Aziraphale has other plans.(Not that Crowley minds, in the end)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! English isn't my first language, please tell me where I made mistakes!  
This is a work in progress, which will have about three chapters, and the next update should not take too long.  
Also, just to spare you any eventual disappointment: there will be NO sex in this fic! Aziaphale is asexual and sex-repulsed in this and Crowley is big on consent so you know - no sex. :) Also, the summary might change later on, I'm not too happy with it.  
I hope you enjoy!!

The floor was practically vibrating under Crowley's feet with how loud the music was. He moved swiftly through the mass of people, bumping into the occasional person as he went.  
He was scanning the crowd perfunctorily, not having to feed just yet. The dance floor was packed full, bodies a swaying, sweaty mass all around Crowley.  
He liked it that way. Touching people always helped a little with quenching his hunger, especially when they were happy and a little horny.

Crowley pushed through the last few people, stepping off the dance floor. He sat down on one of the barstools, looking around. There were only few people at the bar, most of the clubgoers were dancing or ar least drunkenly stumbling around in a less-than-elegant way that was fascinating to watch.

With a flicker of his wrist, Crowley's usual drink of choice appeared in front of him. Taking a sip, the incubus leaned back. The alcohol's slight burn relaxed him and he scanned the crowd again, now taking his time. So far, no one had caught his eye. He recognised most of the people around him, even though he had not fed on many of them. Not that he wanted to, either.

Most of the other regulars would be incredibly easy to persuade to come back to his place. While there was nothing wrong with that, Crowley did like a challenge. That was also the main reason why he regularly went hungry for longer than he was supposed to - not that he really minded. Crowley was picky about who he fed on and even if he hadn't eaten in a long time, the excess energy from his neighbours was often enough to last him at least another week.

And after all, Crowley had no real _desire_ to have sex, anyways. He exclusively used it for feeding since that, after all, was a necessity. Of course, he enjoyed himself - a bonus to his full stomach afterwards - but to Crowley, sex had always been primarily for feeding. He saw it as a transaction, almost - he gave people a good time and in return, they gave him enough energy to last a month.

A cold gust of air interrupted Crowley's thoughts. He shivered, his thin, tight black t-shirt not doing much to protect him from the cold. With a frown, he stared at the people who had just entered the club.  
He recognised none of them - two men and a woman, none of them dressed appropriately for a night out.

The first man who led the others was tall and stepped through the door with a self-assuredness that made Crowley slightly jealous. His hair was black with some grey strands and he was dressed in a very expensive suit. The woman was dressed similarily, lookin slightly annoyed as the followed the man who was already pushing his way through the dance floor. And then, the third man came into view.

He stood out the most, dressed in clothes Crowley could have sworn he had last seen in the 19th century. He was slightly chubby and his hair was fluffy and white despite him not being too old yet. He walked quickly, as if not to lose the other two. The man seemed nervous, his eyes darting around the room and Crowley could habe sworn he saw him flinch when one of the dancers brushed his arm.

There was something... _off_ about the man, though. It was nothing Crowley could have put into words, more of a feeling, a suspicion, than a certainty. The crowd seemed to almost automatically part for the man and Crowley could have sworn that he saw the air around him flicker for just a moment.

By now, the first man had reached the bar, sitting only a few metres away from Crowley, still close enough that the incubus could hear what he was saying to the woman, who had sat down next to him.

"You'd think it's his first time at a club with how he's behaving."

The woman laughed, a dry sound.

"Maybe it is. Do you think it's his first time drinking, too?"

Her friend's answer was cut short as the white-haired man reached the bar, sitting down next to the woman - just two seats away from Crowley - with a sigh.

"Aziraphale," said the woman quickly, "what do you want to drink? I assume you would like a refreshment before going dancing."

The man - Azirpahale, as Crowley, who was following their conversation intently, had learned - blushed.

"Oh no, there's no need, Michael, I won't go dancing. It's not my... I wouldn't enjoy it." He smiled fleetingly. At Michael's hard look he quickly added, "But of course a drink would be lovely. Some red wine, maybe?"

The woman raised her eybrows but complied, ordering a glass of red wine and whatever her colleague and she were drinking. Crowley didn't really listen anymore, too focused on the white-haired man, who was scanning the room with something akin to distress in his eyes. Next to him, Michael and the other man were talking, ever so often throwing glances at Aziraphale, who had now unfolded a handkerchief which he used to gently wipe his face.  
Crowley wished he had one, too. It _was_ rather hot, after all.

Crowley turned back to the bar with a slight shake of his head. No matter how strangely intriguing Aziraphale was, he had more important things to focus on.  
He swiftly downed his drink and stood up, ready to join the mass of dancing people. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aziraphale and the other two turning their heads in his direction, his sudden movement apparently having attracted their attention.

Crowley smiled to himself as he made his way over to the dance floor. He always enjoyed the attention of others. Especially if it was positive one.

-  
For a while, Crowley got lost in the music and the people around him. Only very few were actually dancing but that was how it always was. Most were either groping their dancing-partner or making out with them, not minding who they bumped into. Usually, Crowley would have gotten close to one of the more enthusiastic couples, seeing as the energy they radiated already would feed him a little, before searching for a suitable partner to spend the night with.

Today, however, that wasn't quite possible. Although he was dancing, Crowley was rather distracted and his eyes kept wandering over to the bar, where Aziraphale and his two acquaintances were sitting. The incubus had decided that the three of them couldn't be friends, not with how uncomfortable Aziraphale seemed around the other two. He appeared to rather be just about anywhere else, fidgeting in his seat and only rarely joining the conversation.

But that was not the only thing which intrigued Crowley. Sometimes - especially when a dancer stumbled too close to him - the air around Aziraphale seemed to flicker and the dancer usually retreated quickly. And Crowley could have sworn that earlier, Aziraphale's drink had been half empty only to be filled to the brim again when he had looked the next time. There was no way a bartender could have filled it up that quickly and slowly, Crowley got the creeping suspicion that there was something going on with Aziraphale that could not be explained with rational logic.

The incubus got his confirmation after a few more slow minutes on the dancefloor. He had watched Aziraphale more or less the whole time, only once taking his eyes off of him as a rather drunk woman stumbled against Crowley. The woman had giggled and continued her way, staggering to the bar.  
And then it had happened.

Crowley saw the woman trip over her own feet, falling. He saw her hit her head on a nearby barstool, hard. And he also saw Aziraphale rush to her within seconds, helping her up and gently putting his hand on her forehead. He let her go after just a few seconds, the woman now getting up with ease, thanking him.

She turned sideways and Crowley could clearly see her face from his position in the crowd. The cut on her forehead that had been the result of her crashing into the barstool had disappeared and when she walked past Aziraphale in the direction of the toilets, her steps were straight and confident, not the slightest hint of the stagger she had had just earlier.

For a moment, Crowley was so in shock that he stopped dancing, people bumping into him, cursing. An elbow landed between his ribs but Crowley couldn't quite bring himself to care. What had just happened?

He shook his head, trying to clear it, his body slowly starting to move to the music again.  
There were only two reasonable explanations for what he had just witnessed. Either his eyesight was getting terrible and he should really get some glasses or...  
Or Aziraphale wasn't human.

Crowley quickly ruled out the first possibility. An incubus' eyesight was near perfect and there was no way Crowley had imagined the incident.  
That left him with possibility number two - Aziraphale not being human. As incredulous as it sounded, Crowley couldn't say that he was _surprised_ , per se. He knew after all, that there were non-human beings in this world, he being a perfect example himself.  
But Crowley was sure that Aziraphale wasn't another incubus, seeing as neither incubi nor succubi, the female equivalent to an incubus, had the power to heal someone as Aziraphale had just done.  
Of course he could have been a demon but Crowley knew that those were rare on earth and he doubted they would have made the effort to heal someone, either.

And therefore, Crowley was left with only one possibility - an angel.

Angels weren't as rare as demons but Crowley still had never seen one before. He had _heard_ of them, of course - good, merciful and most of all, pure. As far as Crowley knew only very few demons had managed to tempt an angel and no incubus had ever done so at all.

It would be his biggest challenge yet, Crowley realised. An angel.  
If he managed to tempt _an angel_, he wouldn't have to worry about feeding for at least half a year, he imagined. And of course, it would be his greatest achievement to date. He would become famous for it, maybe, the first incubus to ever seduce an angel.

Crowley grinned.

This time, he moved quickly through the crowd as he made his way over to the bar.  
He had a goal to reach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry that this has taken so long! The past few weeks especially I've been having major writer's block, and I had to push myself to write anything. But, at the very least, the 2nd chapter of this is now finally complete!! It's not quite what i wanted but I hope you'll like it, nevertheless :)   
This story will probably have 2 more chapters and this one is longer than the first one, to make it up to you :)
> 
> Just a fair warning: terrible, cheesy flirting ahead, because neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are good at this shit.
> 
> Enjoy!!! <3

Crowley was only a few steps away from Aziraphale when Michael's phone went off. She looked at it for a second, sighing before standing up. Crowley watched as she said something to Aziraphale and the other man before she left them, walking in the direction of the door. The other man turned to Aziraphale, pointing at someone on the dancefloor with a grin before he patted the angel on the shoulder and left, Aziraphale now sitting alone at the bar.

Crowley took his chance.  
With all the confidence he could muster he walked up to the angel, a small smile on his face as he pushed through the crowd. He made sure Aziraphale could see him, not wanting to just sit down next to him without warning.

When he had reached him, and Aziraphale didn’t look opposed, simply mildly confused, Crowley plopped down in the seat next to him, letting out a small, pleased sigh. And then (because Crowley might have been an incubus but that didn't automatically mean he was good at flirting) - he said, with a small nod to the man on the dancefloor, "Your friend over there looks like one of the least pleasant people I've ever met."

Ar this, Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and Crowley wished he could slap himself inconspicuously. The angel looked over to his acquaintance, who had by now come closer to a blonde woman, and gave a small nod.

"Gabriel? Yes, he can be a bit... much sometimes." Aziraphale cleared his throat, throwing a quick sideways glance at Crowley. "And... if you don't mind me asking - who _are_ you?"

Crowley grinned too broadly, desperately fighting off a blush. "I'm Crowley. I saw you and you looked rather uncomfortable, so I decided to come rescue you. Not that you needed it, in the end."  
Aziraphale chuckled slightly and Satan, Crowley had never heard such a lovely sound. Pros of being an angel, he guessed.

"Thank you for trying, I suppose. My name’s Aziraphale. You've got a lovely name, dear - I have never met a 'Crowley' before."

He took a sip of his red wine, giving Crowley a good opportunity to raise his eyebrows at the angel’s statement. So ‘Crowley’ was supposed to be a rare name, whereas _’Aziraphale’_ was entirely fine?

Crowley opened his mouth to ask Aziraphale just that, when the angel spoke again, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows.  
"Did I seem so uncomfortable earlier? I do hope Gabriel and Michael didn't notice. That would not end well for me."

He looked genuinely upset, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. It was a look Crowley already disliked seeing on the angel's face and he did his best to make it vanish again as quickly as possible.

"Oh no, you weren't too obvious, no worries. But I happen to be good at reading people, if you want to call it that, so I noticed. Who are they, anyways?" asked Crowley with a small nod to where Michael and Gabriel had gone. Aziraphale's mouth twisted down ever so slightly.

"My bosses. I'm new in the company and they thought that it'd be a marvellous idea to get me to 'loosen up', as they put it. Only I didn't think it would be in a club."

He sounded miserable and Crowley couldn't help but release a chuckle of his own. He patted the angel gently on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"Ah, you'll survive. And after all, you've got me now, haven't you?" He gave the angel a wide smile, relieved to see that Aziraphale reciprocated it.  
So far, this was going swimmingly if he said so himself. He had not really expected them to _talk_, especially not about this - normally he went differently about the business of seducing someone - but he was enjoying himself surprisingly much.

"I hope so. I don't think I'll have to stay here that much longer anymore." He gave Crowley another quick smile, before continuing. "Do you come here often?”

"Yes. You could say I'm a regular - this is my preferred club. But I don't think I've seen you around here before. I certainly would not have forgotten you, if I had."

Crowley leaned forward a little, his body angled towards Aziraphale. The angel nodded, then shook his head, clearly flustered.

"Ah, no. This is my first time in this club - any club at all, to be honest." He sent Crowley another quick smile but so far, he had not displayed any signs of uncomfortableness by their proximity, so Crowley took it as a good sign.

"It can be a bit overwhelming at first, I guess. I also needed a little to get used to all the people and just how loud the music was, in the beginning. But by now, I enjoy being here often. Especially if it's with good company."

He winked at Aziraphale, making the angel blush even more and leaned back, making sure that his shirt rode up a little. He watched as Aziraphale's gaze darted over the small bit of exposed skin and allowed his grin to widen even more. If he was reading this correctly - and he was pretty sure he was - he would get to feed on an angel tonight. It would be positively _divine_.

Crowley was so caught up in his <strike>fantasies</strike> _thoughts_ that he did not hear what Aziraphale asked him. Only when the angel gently touched his shoulder, did he snap out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked what you did for a living. After all, you've seen my bosses already and I don't even know what you do."

Aziraphale smiled softly, oblivious to the mental gymnastics Crowley was internally doing in record speed. He had no idea what to tell the angel, _dammit._  
It wasn't often that he had to come up with a lie about his work life, seeing as no one ever asked. Most of the time, people had different goals in mind than simply talking to Crowley – especially about something as trivial and sometimes downright unpleasant as work.

"I work in, uh, an office. Boring. Nine-to-five-job, you know how it is. Not really worth going into specifics. But why don’t you tell me more about you?" Crowley made sure to direct a small wink and a not-so-small smile at Aziraphale. "What exactly is your job? Just because I've seen your bosses doesn't mean I've got the faintest idea of what you actually do. And I'd love to learn whatever I can about you."

All things considered, thought Crowley as Aziraphale started to speak (now animatedly and with far too many hand gestures), he'd done quite a good job at evading the angel's question.

"I work for a charity organisation. We've got many different departments and I'm responsible for the book section, which means that I sell certain books for cheap and also run a library where people can lend them. The books we sell are mostly second-hand educational ones for people who cannot afford buying one at full price."

Crowley nodded and hummed in all the right places, trying to seem interested. What the angel was talking about wasn't _uninteresting_ per se, but the incubus found he concentrated much more on the way Aziraphale's mouth moved and his eyes shone while speaking than the actual content of his words.

Aziraphale’s explanation lasted a bit longer than Crowley had expected it would, but the incubus found he did not mind one bit. He enjoyed watching the angel talk, and besides, it gave him an opportunity to think about how to proceed.

So far, Aziraphale was wildly different than anyone else Crowley had ever fed on and though this would definitely complicate things a bit, Crowley did like a challenge. He would never convince anyone to sleep with him against their will, but he did enjoy the steps it sometimes took to bring someone in his – or their – bed.

With Aziraphale, it seemed like none of his usual tactics would work. Crowley had refrained from touching the angel too much, remembering how he had wanted to escape anyone touching him when he had walked over the dancefloor earlier.

For the next quarter hour, the two of them made Smalltalk, Aziraphale gradually opening up more and Crowley himself was also a lot more open than he usually would have been. Maybe it was the knowledge that the man sitting opposite to him was an angel and therefore likely wouldn’t harm him. Maybe it was simply Aziraphale himself – he was a downright _lovely_ person, as much as Crowley disliked the sappy term. Talking to Aziraphale was almost laughably easy, and Crowley enjoyed himself like he hadn’t for a long time.

It was rare that he simply sat and _talked_ to someone and Crowley hadn’t realised just how much he had been missing simple, easy conversations. He would have been content with just talking to Aziraphale for the whole night, had his empty stomach not reminded him forcefully that coming to this club had had a reason.

Over the past few minutes, Crowley had upped his flirting a little, touching the angel here and there, and to his relief and happiness, Aziraphale had so far reacted overwhelmingly positively. But for all the angel enjoyed talking to Crowley, it seemed that the general atmosphere of the club was starting to grate on his nerves. He looked around much more, an annoyed look on his face whenever anyone would come even in his general direction and Crowley could sympathise. He would also prefer to be somewhere else right now – in his bed, for example, preferably with the angel.

After Aziraphale had glared daggers at the fourth club-goer that had had the audacity to approach the bar, Crowley took his chance.

He leaned forward a little and trailed his hand up Aziraphale’s arm, lowering his voice a bit. “Would you like to go somewhere else? Somewhere a bit more… quiet, perhaps?”

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically, relief plain on his face. Crowley gave him a wide grin and got up, releasing Aziraphale’s arm from where he had been gently holding it. Putting on his jacket, Crowley couldn’t help but congratulate himself quietly. It looked like he was going to get to feed today and have a _very_ good time while doing so, too.

He made his way to the door, waiting for Aziraphale, who was saying his goodbyes to his bosses. It struck Crowley as strange, going to a club of all places, with one’s employee, but then again, both Michael and Gabriel had treated Aziraphale quite poorly, so chances were that they had chosen a club specifically to make him feel uncomfortable.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale told his bosses that he would be going now, gesturing in Crowley’s vague direction. Gabriel grinned and patted Aziraphale on the back with more force than would have been necessary and said something that made Aziraphale wince and shake his head quickly. Crowley frowned. What on earth was going on? He was toying with the thought of walking up the three of them and ask just who Gabriel thought he was, but the other man had already released Aziraphale, stepping back.

The angel was now hurrying towards Crowley, an unhappy expression on his face and Crowley now _really_ wanted to go over to Gabriel, give him a piece of his mind. How dare he make the angel unhappy?

Internally, Crowley groaned at the thought. He really needed to feed, goddammit. He tended to become a bit… possessive when he was really hungry, but he hadn’t realised just how bad it already was.

“We can go,” came Aziraphale’s voice, clipped and strange and Crowley nodded, opening the door for him.

The entire mood had shifted, from what had been a comfortable, flirty atmosphere to a tense, uncomfortable one. Crowley tried his best to bring back the earlier relaxed mood, by babbling on about that things that didn’t entirely matter but made Aziraphale, who was being rather quiet, smile.

He was in the middle of a story about how he had once been chased by ducks at the park, when they reached his flat, Crowley stopping short at the sight of it. Had they really been walking for that long already? Aziraphale threw him a curious glance at the incubus’ sudden halt, and Crowley hurried to explain, gesticulating wildly.

“Ah, that’s my flat. Didn’t think we had walked quite that far already… Would you like to come upstairs, have some coffee or something?”

Aziraphale hesitated, leaning backwards subconsciously. Crowley bit back a sigh and hoped against hoping that the angel would say yes. Not only would he be pretty annoyed at himself if he had managed to somehow fuck up his feeding-possibilities by _talking too much_, of all things, but Crowley found himself genuinely looking forward to spending more time with Aziraphale.

Not only for sex, Crowley realised with a start - to be quite honest that had become less and less important the more time he had actually spent with the angel - but simply for enjoying Aziraphale’s company a little longer. He enjoyed their conversations; they came naturally and easily, and Crowley couldn’t remember when the last time that he had genuinely liked a person that much had been.

It wouldn’t even matter to him if he _didn’t_ get to feed tonight, Crowley thought, his eyes almost bugging out of his head at the revelation. For the first time in years, he would genuinely rather just spend time with someone than sleep with them.

Aziraphale still hadn’t answered, and that was the only thing that made Crowley concentrate on the situation at hand again, instead of going on a soul-searching trip that would last at least half a decade, given his current state of mind.

“You don’t have to,” Crowley added a little belatedly, “I was just thinking it would be nice. I enjoyed talking to you, and I’d like to continue that conversation, but please don’t feel pressured to come up with me.”

It was true. The last thing Crowley ever wanted was pressure someone into a situation such as this, even if the possibility that they wouldn’t even be sleeping with each other tonight was very much real. He always made sure that his partners were on board with everything they did together, and being a decent person in that way often also had the added bonus that overly enthusiastic consent tended to keep him fed for longer than quick, casual sex out of boredom.

Aziraphale nodded and bit his lip, rocking slightly on his feet.

“I’d like to,” he said finally, “thank you for inviting me.”

He didn’t give an explanation as to why he had hesitated and Crowley accepted his answer with a small smile, turning around and opening the door for the angel.

Crowley’s flat usually looked a bit different than it did tonight, but whenever he planned on taking someone home with him, he tended to change the interior to fit the human standards of interior design a little better.

That was why most of the gold décor had vanished, especially his throne, and not _all_ the walls were a depressing black.

Aziraphale looked around in wonder, trying to take in what Crowley guessed was a lot more extravagance than what he was used to. Angels tended to be very modest from what Crowley knew and the incubus’s flat would almost come as a culture shock to the angel, Crowley thought with a small, private grin.

While Aziraphale went in the living room to sit down on a comfortable couch that had appeared less than a minute ago, Crowley busied himself by making tea, since Aziraphale had mentioned that he preferred it over coffee. Crowley didn’t usually drink tea, but he found that it didn’t taste half as bad as he had feared it would.

Setting the teacups down on the small coffee table that had magically appeared the last time Crowley had had a “guest” over, the incubus took a place on the sofa where Aziraphale was sitting, leaving a bit less space between them than what would have been strictly appropriate.

Aziraphale smiled and blushed but said nothing, simply taking his cup of tea and taking a sip, closing his eyes.

“That’s delicious! Thank you for letting me come up, I appreciate it.”

Crowley nodded and hid his smile in his own teacup, leaning back to relax against the sofa. The comfortable atmosphere from before had appeared again, only now it seemed more intimate, a bit more private.

And just like earlier, the conversation flowed easily, Crowley finding himself relaxing more and more as the minutes passed. Aziraphale talked animatedly, using his hands a lot to emphasise his points, and as Crowley discovered, the angel could be incredibly passionate when it came to topics, he cared about. Like books and their adaptations, apparently.

“-It was a tragedy, really. How it is even humanly possible to butcher _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ so completely, is beyond me. Who even thought of trying to modernise it and then make Hippolyta talk about _Legos_, of all things?”

Crowley nodded solemnly as if he had even the faintest clue as to what Aziraphale was talking about. It was fascinating, hearing him go on about something he so obviously cared about, not to mention a little hot, seeing Aziraphale become so passionate.

“What about you?” asked Aziraphale, scooting a little closer to Crowley, “do you know any terrible adaptations of beautiful plays?”

Crowley snorted. It was such an incredibly specific question that the answer seemed rather obvious – no, of course not. He told the angel as much, grinning broadly.

“But what I do know,” Crowley said, leaning back, “are terrible covers of beautiful songs.”

That prompted a long conversation about the best music genre, with passionate arguing both from Crowley’s and Aziraphale’s side. As it turned out, the angel wasn’t a fan of Queen, which Crowley found simply unacceptable.

It was easy to talk to the angel, Crowley found, and he didn’t even notice how quickly the time flew by. Both their tea cups had long been drained and over the past few minutes Crowley and Aziraphale had come closer to each other, now sitting in such a way that their legs were pressed together, Crowley’s arm slung over the headrest of the couch, close enough to touch Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Aziraphale was blushing, laughing and smiling. A while ago, the two of them had switched from tea to wine, and apparently, Aziraphale was more of a lightweight than Crowley was, because he was gesticulating wildly, going on about something Crowley still hadn’t quite understood, and he was talking much quicker than the incubus had ever heard anyone talk, and somehow still manged not to trip over his words. The angel wasn’t drunk though, merely tipsier than Crowley would have anticipated.

The wine made Aziraphale loosen up a little, he expressed himself more freely and had gotten more open with physical contact, since now, he was leaning his head against Crowley’s shoulder, staring up at the demon.

“You’re terribly pretty,” the angel said, smiling up at Crowley, “have I told you that?”

Crowley grinned and shook his head. “You haven’t, but you’re more than welcome to do so.”

Aziraphale sighed at that, tipping his head back a little to look Crowley in the eyes again. The movement exposed the angel’s throat and Crowley found himself fixated on it.

“Well you are, my dear. Very pretty. Especially your hair, but I also like your mouth and cheekbones. Everything about your face, really.”

At that, Crowley gave a small huff of amusement, daring to raise his hand and run it through Aziraphale’s hair, making the angel’s eyes flutter closed. Crowley smiled.

“You’re also very attractive. I already noticed that in the bar - basically lit up the whole place, like you were glowing from within. It was quite fascinating.”

Crowley’s unbearably cheesy words were accompanied by a small wink and Aziraphale made a sound as if he had been physically hurt. The angel burrowed his face in his hands, but leaned closer to Crowley, pressing his face in the incubus’ shoulder.

Crowley let his hand, which was still playing with the other man’s hair, trail a little lower, his fingers now gently stroking over Aziraphale’s neck. The angel made a small, happy humming sound and leaned closer, exposing a little more of his throat. Crowley smiled and trailed a little lower, his fingertips touching just under the hem of Aziraphale’s shirt, then coming back up again, his nails scratching softly against the angel’s skin. Aziraphale sighed again and his hand found Crowley’s, before he moved it to the demon’s middle, cupping it around his waist.

It should have been an awkward position, but somehow, it wasn’t. Aziraphale was now halfway laying on to of Crowley, and he tipped his head back, exposing his throat. Crowley’s fingers stroked along the angel’s throat just once, before he cupped it around the back of his neck, holding Aziraphale’s head gently. Slowly, Crowley tilted Aziraphale’s head up, looking the angel in the eyes. Aziraphale’s blush had intensified, and there was a small, blissful smile on his face. His hair was a mess, and his eyes kept flitting from Crowley’s eyes to his mouth.

“Could I, uh, could I kiss you?” Aziraphale blushed even harder after having asked the question, but he didn’t avert his gaze, still looking Crowley in the eyes. The incubus smiled.

In lieu of an answer, he bent forward, kissing the angel himself. Aziraphale made a small, surprised sound, before his eyes fluttered close and he reciprocated the kiss.

Crowley moved so that Aziraphale was now halfway sitting in his lap and brought his other hand up to cup the angel’s face, deepening the kiss. Aziraphale smiled and drew Crowley a bit closer still. After a few more seconds of a kiss that was much gentler (and admittedly also much better) than what Crowley was used to, they broke apart.

Crowley couldn’t help the broad smile that spread over his face. It had been a long time since he had last kissed someone like this, slow and soft, and he was pleasantly surprised. Aziraphale seemed happy, too, still blushing and now with slightly redder lips.

"Well," he said, his voice slightly hoarse, "that was nice."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Just nice? I was hoping for something more like 'absolutely amazing and simply breath-taking'."

Aziraphale chuckled, stroking a finger over Crowley's cheek, making him shudder involuntarily.  
"That too, my dear. That too."

Crowley grinned before he leaned back in, kissing Aziraphale on the cheek. "Would you," he said, pressing small kisses on Aziraphale's throat and cheek, "Would you like to do that again?"

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically, and before Crowley could respond, he had already pressed his lips against the incubus' again.  
Crowley grinned against Aziraphale's lips and then moved the both of them in such a way that they were now lying on the sofa, Crowley on top of the angel.  
  
Aziraphale, who had one hand buried in Crowley's hair, tightened his grip and drew the other even closer, prompting a small, content sigh.  
Aziraphale was a surprisingly good kisser, Crowley noticed absent-mindedly. He usually enjoyed himself whenever he fed on someone, but it was rare that he stumbled across someone who kissed as well as Aziraphale did.

The angel also seemed to enjoy what they were doing, and Crowley was glad that neither he nor Aziraphale had drunken much. He never slept with anyone who was _drunk_, and even those who were merely tipsy he usually let sober up a little more with the help of a small miracle.

However, that could wait a little longer, Crowley decided as he felt Aziraphale tug his hair a little, right now keeping kissing the angel was the most important thing.

Crowley gently bit Aziraphale's lip, drawing a small gasp from him. Slowly, Crowley removed his hand from the angel's hair, trailing it lower until it was resting on the angel's hip. He wanted to touch Aziraphale, wanted to feel his skin under his fingertips.

With a quick miracle, he made sure that his fingers weren't cold, before pushing up Aziraphale's shirt a little, following immediately with his fingertips.

Aziraphale gave a hiss, his hand tightening in Crowley's hair. The incubus grinned against the angel's lips, pushing his hand up even higher.

Suddenly, the hand in Crowley's hair vanished and a second later he felt Aziraphale push against his shoulders, pushing him away, off of the angel.

"Wha-"

Crowley let himself be shoved off of Aziraphale, too surprised to react. As soon as he could move again, Aziraphale sat up, scrambling towards the very end of the sofa. He was still blushing, his hair even messier than earlier and his chest was heaving, but he didn't look comfortable or aroused at all, rather a little panicked.

Aziraphale moved again, frantically smoothing out his t-shirt, flattening it where Crowley’s exploring hands had scrunched it up. He moved further away from Crowley and curled in on himself, before standing up abruptly, as if he were too nervous to remain in one position for too long.

For a second, a rather confused Crowley merely watched him, standing at some distance next to the sofa, trying not to crowd the angel. When Aziraphale didn't offer any explanation as to what exactly had just happened - since really, Crowley could see that he was obviously agitated and uncomfortable but had no clue as to _why_ \- Crowley awkwardly cleared his throat.

"So", he said, running a hand through his hair, "are you alright?"

It was a stupid question, all things considered, but Crowley currently felt clueless enough that even asking a stupid question seemed like a good course of action. He twisted his hands together in front of him, before straightening his shirt, desperate to do something, anything but keep his hands at his sides, stiff and awkward.

Aziraphale nodded, not looking Crowley in the eyes. He kept his eyes firmly trained on the floor, his arms wrapped around himself.  
"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly that Crowley had trouble understanding him. "I should have... I'm sorry."

"No problem," Crowley said automatically, still slightly shocked and thoroughly confused, "but, ah, just to be sure what you're apologising for - what happened? Are you alright?"

Aziraphale nodded, though he did not look alright in the least - more like a miserable heap of angel laying on the floor, which was slightly impressive considering that he was very much standing upright. It was a weird situation and Crowley couldn't help but frown at it.

Unfortunately, Aziraphale seemed to think that the frown was directed at him, because he, impossibly, shrunk even further in on himself and once more stared intently at the floor.

"I really am sorry, my dear," he said, still looking miserable, "I should have told you. Of course I knew that this was going to be... well, that this would be what you wanted, but I thought that maybe this time... or maybe that I could - but I was wrong, obviously. I shouldn't have attempted- but I did, didn't, I? I did."

Nothing of what Aziraphale had just said helped answer any of the questions swirling through Crowley's mind. He was pretty sure that he had never been so confused before, and the angel's rambling had not helped him. There were hundreds of things he wanted to ask Aziraphale, one seemingly more important than the other, but what came out of his mouth was:

"Are you okay?"

Aziraphale looked at him, surprised, and then nodded ever so slightly.

"Yes, I think so," he said, running a hand through his hair, "and you, my dear?"

Crowley only barely held back a snort. It was a stupid question, since obviously he wasn’t the one that needed to be fussed over right now, but he nodded nevertheless, not wanting to upset Aziraphale further.

“Did I do something wrong?”, he asked, still feeling a little helpless and confused, “did I hurt you or did I move too fast? Was this not what you wanted?”

Aziraphale shook his head, looking even more miserable now, if that were even possible. For a second, the angel’s eyes flickered up to meet Crowley’s, before he looked away again, heaving a sigh.

“You did nothing wrong,” said Aziraphale, chewing at his bottom lip, “I simply thought that… Well, I thought that maybe since you seemed to be interested in me at the club, I thought that we could get to know each other a little better. Of course, I know that when people invite others up for, ah, _‘coffee’_, they mean something else entirely, most of the time. And well, you were incredibly interesting and charming at the club, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, so well, I, ah, followed upstairs. And that’s on me, of course, I knew were this was going, but I thought that maybe I’d be alright with it this time, since well, as I said, I did like you, earlier. I am terribly sorry if I disappointed you, my dear, I know that this probably isn’t quite what you wanted or were, ah, well, looking for, and I really _am_sorry.”

Crowley had been aware that Aziraphale could talk a lot, obviously, but still, he had never met anyone before who could talk _that_ much that quickly. He would have marvelled at it, had the angel’s rant not led to a not insignificant amount of worry on his part. Aziraphale had been correct, of course – Crowley had had certain expectations when he had invited him upstairs, but he also would have been happy to simply spend the evening talking, getting to know each other better. He wouldn’t have _minded_ had the evening progressed in such a way that it ended with Crowley well-fed and Aziraphale (hopefully) spent and sated, but as the evening had progressed and Crowley had spent more time in Aziraphale’s company, for once, sex had not been the ultimate goal for the night.

Now, he only had to put all those feelings into words in such a manner that he hopefully did not put his foot into his mouth entirely.

“Ngk,” Crowley said, “ah, _fuck_.”

Unsurprisingly, Aziraphale looked moderately confused and slightly alarmed at Crowley’s unusual eloquence. The incubus let out a small, defeated sigh and tried again.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, without preamble or explanation, “and though, yes, I would have liked if this would have ended up in the bedroom, that is not the entire reason why I invited you upstairs. I really did want to get to know you better, whether sex was involved or not. Yes, I was looking forward to it, but I don’t sleep with anyone who is less than enthusiastic about it, and I would never pressure you or anyone else into sleeping with me. You didn’t disappoint me, and I am actually relieved that you told me to stop when you got uncomfortable, and I’m sorry for not noticing sooner.”

At that onslaught of actual, reasonable words, even Crowley himself was a little shocked – especially after his first try. He had never been the best at communicating his feelings, preferring to let his actions speak for him, and what he had just said was not only somewhat thought-through but also even slightly reassuring, if he said so himself. 

Aziraphale also looked vaguely impressed, if Crowley interpreted the angel’s facial expression correctly, and at least he didn’t seem to be two seconds away from leaving anymore.

“Ah, well, that’s just splendid then,” the angel managed, “thank you. Still. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. But I didn’t even think… It didn’t occur to me, at first, that maybe this is why you invited me upstairs, or even talked to me in the first place. It was, wasn’t it? I really thought that maybe you simply wanted to talk to me, but that wasn’t the reason, was it?”

Aziraphale looked strangely small all of a sudden, twisting his hands together nervously in front of him. At least he did not look anxious anymore, nor close to panicking, as he had earlier. Merely defeated and unbearably tired, and Crowley couldn’t quite figure out whether this was something worthy of being called progress or not.

“Well”, he said, momentarily struggling for words again, “I admit that I did – and do – find you attractive and appealing and that this was what initially prompted me to talk to you. But that’s- Well, yes- Usually, when I invite people in my flat in the evening, especially if we have met in a club, it is in order to sleep with them. But in those cases, both parties are aware of it and want it. I was under the impression that you knew where this was going and were on board with it. Again - I’m _really_ sorry for not noticing sooner and making you uncomfortable with that. But,” said Crowley, stressing the word, “while yes, I was admittedly looking for sex, I do not mind _not_ having it, _especially_ if it makes you uncomfortable. I am interested in you as a person, I was at the club and I still am now, and just getting to know you better, in any way, would also be entirely satisfactorily for me.”

Crowley was pretty sure that he had never before been as fucking _eloquent_ as he was being right now, especially impressive after his earlier awkward attempts. And, to his relief, at those incredibly eloquent words, Aziraphale loosened up a little, his shoulders dropping, and he released a small breath. He still did not seem entirely relaxed, but it was a far cry from the tension he had been displaying just minutes ago.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night, then,” Aziraphale said, though it was with a bit more confidence than everything else he had said in the past couple minutes. “I know this isn’t what you expected and I’m sorry if I… misled you. I didn’t mean to.”

Crowley offered a smile, relieved to see that at the very least, the angel wasn’t afraid and panicking any longer.

“It’s fine. As I said before, this is a much more preferable outcome to what it could have been, and you didn’t mislead me, at least not on purpose. We simply had different expectations for what would come, and that’s fine. Happens.”

The incubus waved his hand through the air in a cheap imitation of his usual careless gesture and to his surprise – and joy – it drew a small smile from Aziraphale.

“Thank you,” the angel said sincerely, making sure to look Crowley in the eyes, “for being so… understanding. Normally, when I tell others that I’m not all that into, well, sex, they react a bit less nicely. Even though the situation is usually a tad less, uh, loaded when I tell them.”

Crowley gave a small chuckle at that. He took a seat on the sofa again, seeing as all this standing was slowly becoming a bit tedious and was glad to see Aziraphale do the same. The angel seemed a little more relaxed again, if still a little tense, but it was far from the panic and fear he had displayed earlier.

“So,” asked Crowley, unable to stave off his curiosity any longer, “are you asexual, then? Or simply not into sex?”

He probably could have formulated that question a bit more tactfully, he scolded himself, but luckily, Aziraphale didn’t seem too bothered by Crowley putting his foot in his mouth for about the fourth time this evening.

“I am asexual, yes,” he said, a small self-deprecating smile on his face, “and as you probably have noticed, I’m quite sex-repulsed. I’m surprised that you know that words, actually. Not that I think you’re stupid or uneducated or anything!”, Aziraphale exclaimed hastily, cringing a little at his own words, “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that the overwhelming majority of people I’ve ever talked to about my sexuality hadn’t even heard of it, and much less were able to simply… accept it. Thank you for that.” he added, a little softer.

“Well, I take pride in being knowledgeable on a lot of subjects,” Crowley said, his confidence and usual coolness seemingly returning bit by bit, “and as it so happens, I had a phase in which I read up a bit about different sexualities.”

That ‘phase’ had been two weeks ago, when Crowley had been so bored out of his mind that he had created a Tumblr account, which had been not only been a fascinating and positively enlightening experience, but had also left him with the knowledge that there were things in this world even he did not want to know, much less read about. But Aziraphale didn’t exactly need to know about that, did he?

“Ah, well then,” Aziraphale said, a small smile on his lips, “thanks for being understanding, nevertheless. I dare say that – even though we had the most unfortunate circumstances – you were by far the person that has reacted in the best way to this.”

The angel leaned forward to pick up his teacup, taking a sip before setting it down again with a small grimace.

“It’s gone cold,” he mumbled, his hands coming up over the teacup before he froze and put them down again, casting a quick look at a somewhat confused Crowley.

“I could always make some more,” Crowley offered, already in the process of getting up from his rather comfortable couch, when Aziraphale stopped him, biting his bottom lip.

“Ah, that won’t be necessary, I don’t think. It is getting rather late, after all, and I should probably go home anyways. I’ve got to work tomorrow, you see, and I would prefer catching some sleep before then.”

Crowley’s face fell at that, a surprisingly intense wave of disappointment washing over him. He tried to get his facial expression back under control, glad that Aziraphale was too busy looking for something in his pockets to notice Crowley’s sudden change in mood.

“But maybe, ah,” Aziraphale said, seemingly finally having found what he was looking for, “We could exchange numbers? That way we could see each other again – only if you want to, of course.”

_Only if he wanted to_. Of course Crowley bloody wanted to. Why hadn’t he thought of giving Aziraphale his number? It was a great idea, a brilliant one, even, and Crowley quickly scrambled for his phone, maybe a bit too eager to shove it under Aziraphale’s nose in order for the angel to type in his number.

Aziraphale accepted the phone with a slightly surprised smile at Crowley’s urgency, and while Aziraphale typed in his number, Crowley took a few more seconds to go back to being the cool, calm, collected incubus he was supposed to be.

All that effort was for naught, however, when it came to saying goodbye to Aziraphale a few moments later, after their numbers had been exchanged, along with a few more pleasantries and awkward, shy smiles.

By then, they had gone to the hall, Aziraphale getting ready to leave. It was a pretty abrupt goodbye, but Crowley couldn’t blame Aziraphale for that. The angel had been in a rather uncomfortable situation and had then talked about something as private and intimate as sexuality with someone who was still virtually a stranger. If that had happened to Crowley, he too would have tried to get out of that situation as quickly as possible.

The angel continued standing in Crowley’s hall for a tad too long, however, not saying anything, but looking somewhat unsure and nervous. Then, before Crowley could ask if everything was alright, Aziraphale quickly took a step forward, hugging him.

Crowley let out a surprised breath, not having anticipated this, but hugged back. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, shouldn’t have filled Crowley with so much joy, considering they had been doing much more than hugging earlier, but somehow, it did.

After a few more seconds, Aziraphale let go, a faint blush on his face. “I really should go now. But thank you, for your invitation and everything else. It was a… it was a nice evening. I’ll see you, Crowley.”

And with that, before Crowley could say as much as ‘goodbye’, the angel was already out of the door, leaving a somewhat stupefied but nevertheless happy incubus behind.

Crowley sighed, running a hand through his hair. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror, and to his surprise, he didn’t even look half-bad, though his clothes were a bit creased and his hair was a mess. But despite this, he looked happy, almost as if glowing from within – the very thing he had told Aziraphale he had looked like in the club. It was an unusual look for him, a weird one, and Crowley turned away from the mirror, making his way back to the sofa with a small spring in his step.

With another sigh, he leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. He was stupidly happy, happier than he’d been in a long time, because even though the evening had ended so entirely different to what he had envisioned, he had still enjoyed himself. He cast a quick glance at his phone, sitting so innocently on the coffee table. It now contained Aziraphale’s number, and the mere thought of that made Crowley smile a big, and not at all cool, calm or collected grin.

Just then, his stomach rumbled, an uncomfortable reminder of why he had decided to go out today in the first place. Crowley sighed once more, rubbing a hand over his face. It seemed that for one more night, he would have to feed off the sexual energy of his neighbours.

Good thing they had lots of that, at the very least.


End file.
